


Faded Scent

by wizwardicuz



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizwardicuz/pseuds/wizwardicuz
Summary: In a world where Nick and Judy are the same age, Nick didn’t always live in Zootopia. The best of friends when they were younger, they dreamed of joining the police together. However, he moved away and while their memories faded, their feelings remained. Now that the Wildes are moving back to Bunnyburrow, can they remain friends or will their faded memories fade their friendship too?





	1. Back to Bunyburrow!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Old Arrangements](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850115) by [Zanrok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanrok/pseuds/Zanrok). 



> I was reading a lovely story, and the premise kind of stuck with me, like wouldn't get out of my head stuck. So much so I got inspired to write my own story based off of it. This is my first time attempting fanfiction, so I hope I do this justice.
> 
> Edit: Chapters one to three updated from initial posting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick comes home to find his parents have some surprising news.

I barely have my foot in the door when I hear Mom’s voice call out from the kitchen.

“Nick dear, can you come here please, we need to talk to you.”

I feel my tail stiffen in apprehension. My thoughts swirl as to what this could be about. The fights at school, my relative lack of friends or even to finally take a stand on the state of my room. A chill runs down my spine at the thought they might be approaching me about the bits of cash that had been trickling into the emergency fund jar. Smoothing my fur back down, I slowly dawdle into our tiny kitchen to find both my parents at the table. Dad looks serious, rubbing his glasses on his sweater vest, while Mom looks run down, even more so than usual, her wrinkled dress hanging loosely on her shoulders. My jaw clenches in worry.  _ This can’t be good. _

They remain silent as I approach, putting my bags beside the table. I slowly seat myself, and it’s not a moment after I’ve gotten comfy that Dad says the last thing I expect. 

“Nick, we’re moving back to Bunnyburrow.”

After the initial wave of relief, I expect to feel a thousand things, frustration, anger, betrayal, but I mostly feel confused, a knot of questions forming in my brain. Narrowing my gaze, I ask, “I thought you said we’d never go back there?”

Dad sighs, reaching for Mom’s hand and begins to rub it between his palms. An apologetic look spawns on his face as he speaks. “I know what I said. Bunnyburrow was not the best place to rear a young fox. But, Zootopia isn’t all we expected it to be either. They share many of the same problems, just in different amounts. But that’s not why we’re going back.”

He pauses, adjusting his glasses. He looks at Mom, smiling weakly, before turning back to me, looking almost guilty. “Son, we didn’t want to say anything, as you’d only worry needlessly, but the rent has gone up. It went up months ago. We tried to keep up, your mother even took on double shifts at the diner-” He points to Mom, leaning on her other arm for support, looking more haggard than even a moment ago. “-To help pay. But it wasn’t enough. We’re months behind and we just don’t have the money. We can’t stay in the city.”

I blink, shocked. A memory tickles at the back of my mind and I look at Dad, suspicious. “Is that why you sold Suitopia? Was the story of rising fabric prices a lie?”

His face hardens and his voice is pained as he speaks. “No, no. That part was true. That did kill Suitopia.” His expression shifts and he looks at me with sadness in his eyes. “But it had been dying for a while. Mammals just didn’t trust a fox to makes clothes. It would have never worked long term. And selling it helped, if only for a while.” His voice trails off and he looks away, eyes darkened with sadness.

My heart breaks as I look at Dad. He dropped his own dream to keep mine alive. I think for a moment, then, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice, I ask, “What if I got a job?”

Dad snaps back to look at me incredulously, his eyes widening in shock. “Son, you know as well as I do, that the only places that would hire a teenage fox would not pay enough to help. Remember how much you got this summer at Bugaburger?”

I can’t stop the grimace that springs up when I remember the size of my paycheck. Only $6 an hour, barely minimum wage. Some of the cons I had pulled with Finnick had earned me more than I got working there for a week. But there’s no way I could invest more time in those without raising suspicion.

Dad smiles sadly, drawing back my attention. “Besides Nick, we want you to finish your education, unlike your old man. Can’t do that if you drop out to get a job.”

My grimace deepens. He’s right of course, and I know it. If I’m to in any way beat the odds because fate decreed I should be a fox, I’m going to need to graduate. But frustration still seeps in as I feel helpless, unable to do anything inside or outside the system. Slowly, I take a deep breath, calming myself. My mind now clearer, I ask the next thing that bothers it. “Alright, but why are we going so far away? What about my friends?”

Mom straightens up, lifting her head from her palm. Slowly, she blinks, then sighs tiredly. “Bunnyburrow’s the only place with cheap enough rent and enough certainty that we can get jobs to pay off our debts. We know people there, it’ll be easier than moving to Podunk. And we’re sorry about your friends. But, we’re leaving behind some as well.” A smile creeps onto her face. “But you could always write them. That’s what you did with Judy when we left Bunnyburrow.”

“Who?”

Her brow furrows. Her tone filled with confusion she says, “Judy Hopps? Your best friend for almost 6 years? You wrote each other for months after we moved here.” Her voice shifts melancholily. “You were so distraught when she stopped writing.”

I try and conjure up anything remotely related to what Mom is saying, but nothing comes up. A wall of pure nothingness blocks me from my own memories. I grip my head, the beginnings of a headache forming. “I don’t remember any of this.”

My parents share a look of concern. Wordlessly, they conduct a conversation of gestures and eye movements. Eventually, Dad sighs, placing his head in his hands and Mom turns to me, voice filled with worry. “You don’t remember Judy Hopps? You went everywhere together, you stayed over at each other’s houses, we couldn’t keep you two apart! You were so mad when we moved to Zootopia, you refused to speak to us for weeks! Is none of this ringing a bell?” She says, looking at me expectantly.

Pulling on my ears, I try and think, recalling anything that I can. For a few moments, I get only more nothing, but as I try a little harder the most wonderful scent dances across my mind. One of flowers and blueberries and optimism. I feel myself relax as I recall it, a smile falling on my face.

_It smells like happiness._

“Nick!”

_How does that even work, smelling like an emotion?_

“Nicholas!”

_And why on earth does this feel so familiar?_

“Nicholas Piberius Wilde, snap out of it!”

I’m shocked out of my reverie and I tense up, my knees hitting the table. “Ahk!”

The pain blinds me for a moment, and I lose my fragile grasp on the beautiful scent. I try and call it back from the recesses of my mind, but it’s like there’s a brick wall in my head, blocking it from me and giving me only pain. Aches filling where I wished a scent would be, loss and longing settles in my heart and I sigh.

Feeling less than wonderful, I turn to face my parents, slowly easing back into a comfortable position.

“Welcome back, Son,” Dad says, smiling. “Remember anything pleasant?”

I feel heat crawl up my face. No doubt the insides of my ears are beet red. When I talk, I have to stop myself from stammering. “Ah no, not really. Just a scent.”

A grin spreads across Mom’s face. “Must have been some scent, dear. You had the dopiest smile.”

I blink surprised, “I… what?”

Somehow her grin gets even wider. Keeping her tone light, she continues, “I’m just glad that you remember something.” Her expressions shifts melancholily, “ Imagine how Judy would feel if you showed up one day with no memory of ever having been friends? She was so fond of you, you’d break her heart.”

I feel my ears flatten against my head. Out of some sense of shame, I remain silent.

Dad clears his throat. “Now back to the topic at hand.” He faces me, his expression determined. “Nick, you have one week to pack your things and say goodbye to your friends. By this time next Monday, we’ll be in Bunnyburrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latest update, august 29, 2018. Thanks to jknight97 and Seaside Skies for their help.


	2. Something Lost, Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy Hopps comes home to find her mother wanting to talk about the past. Will Judy be just as forgetful as Nick, or is she the better bunny?

The bus’ brakes screech as it comes to a stop in front of my house. I zoom out ahead of my siblings to avoid the claustrophobic mess of all of them trying to get off at once. Stepping off the bus, I’m surprised to see my mother standing outside the front door. Apprehensive, I jog up to her. “Mom, is something wrong?”

She pats my shoulder. “No, dear, nothing’s wrong. In fact, something may even be right.” She cocks her head, confused. “Why would you think something’s wrong, you have a reason to think that?”

I smile placatingly. “I’m just concerned because you’re normally inside cooking.”

She huffs, waving a paw dismissively. “Well, I think your older siblings can handle working on dinner for a few minutes. However, I am here for a reason. Judy, I need to talk to you.” She warily eyes the swarm of my siblings that followed me off the bus. “...Preferably somewhere with fewer ears.”

Grabbing my paw, she drags me inside, grumbling. “This house is a factory grade rumour mill on a bad day…” She stops in front of a stairway I’ve never used before. She looks at the sign denoting it as stairway 7B and mutters, “Now, was it this one, or 7A…?”

My heartbeats spikes with uncertainty, “Mom, what’s this about?”

She looks back at me and rolls her eyes. “I told you, dear, not now. And stop worrying, it’s a surprise, one I know you’re going to like.”

_ A surprise I’ll like? _ My mind begins swimming with ideas. Thoughts of various police-related gifts begin to trickle in and a smile overtakes my muzzle. I lose myself in my thoughts as they go wild, each new potential surprise getting more and more extravagant. And then, a sudden ‘ _ whap _ !’ to the back of my head brings me back to reality.

“Judy!”

Dazed, I shake my head. Refocusing my eyes, I find Mom standing in front of an open door. “You coming, dear?” She says, gesturing with her paw.

“Right, yes!”

She shakes her head, smiling. “Silly girl. Get in here.” She says, heading inside.

I follow and find that inside is a room I’ve never seen before. With it’s desks and filing cabinets, I’d mistake it for my parent’s office if it weren’t for the huge pile of boxes and containers that fill every space they can. I feel my nose twitch and I stop myself from sneezing as I inhale the dust that permeates the air.

“What is this place?”

Mom’s muffled voice sounds out from behind the box cluster. “It’s an old office Stu and I used before the third Burrow remodel. I think it got relegated to a storage room sometime during the fifth one. Anyways, I was going through some of these rooms to clean out junk, when I found… Aha! There it is. Really, your father needs a better sorting system,”

Grunts and the sounds of dragging echo from behind the pile as I wait in suspense. Finally, with a huge thud, Mom reappears, placing a large plastic tub between us. Written on a piece of tape on the side is a single word, “Nick.”

“Well, it may have taken years, but I finally found where Stu put all your stuff related to Nick after that incident with Gideon grey.” She says, proud smile in place. Then under her breath, she mutters so quietly I almost don’t catch it, “Surprised he hasn’t snuck behind my back to burn it yet.” She grumbles.

I look at my Mom and the tub in confusion. “Who’s Nick?”

Her eyebrows raise, looking at me incredulously. “Oh, you must be joking, surely you remember your best friend?”

I stare at her, eyes wide, wondering if she hit her head while searching. Confused, I say, “My best friend’s name is Shauna.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing in annoyance. “I don’t mean now, I mean when you were younger.”

I blink at her, concern for her mental health growing. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been friends with Shauna since preschool.”

“Don’t play smart with me young lady!” She says, bristling. She reaches out and pulls the lid off the tub, searching for something inside. Frustration is clear in her voice when she says, “As I’m sure you well know, before he moved away seven years ago, you were best friends with one Nicholas Wilde.”  Pulling out something from the tub, she shoves it at me. “Deny  _ that  _ to my face, why don’t you!” She exclaims.

I look down at the object in my paws and find a very dusty picture frame. Gipping the sleeve of my shirt, I rub the dust to reveal the picture underneath. I only look at the image for a moment, before I shout in disbelief, “I was friends with a fox?!”

Mom looks at me as if I’m the dumbest mammal on earth. “Well, of course yo-” She stops, confusion written into every muscle of her face. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

I silently shake my head.

She throws her arms in the air, surprise and confusion sculpted into her stance, “Well, that makes no sense! You were best friends, how do you forget that? I mean, if it weren’t for Stu…” She stops, a perplexed look on her face. “Stu.” Her face morphs, sliding through several levels of anger, from frustration to hatred. “Stu Hopps,” She grumbles.  

She takes a deep breath and then turns to me, face slightly more passive. Voice strained, she says, “Dear, why don’t you stay here, look through that bin, perhaps it’ll trigger some memories? I’m going to work my frustrations out by finishing dinner. Shout for me if you need anything.” She walks out, leaving me alone with a bin of memories lost to time.

I turn, looking at the tub. “Whelp, no time like the present to look into the past, eh Judy?” But I don’t move. Instead, I find myself looking at the photo still in my hand. It’s a picture of a younger me, riding on the back of a red fox kit as I wave a butterfly net around. Huge smiles are very clear on both our muzzles. I turn the picture this way and that, trying desperately to get any sense of recognition out of the scene. With each passing moment, I feel my foot thumping a faster and faster rhythm as frustration builds within me at my lack of progress. But the memories don’t come, only pain and blackness, like my mind refuses to give me what I know is there.

Slumping to the ground, I shout, exasperated, “Ugh! Why don’t I remember anything!”

I take one last look at the photo before putting it down, defeated. Without it filling my gaze, I find it drawn to the bin, so I finally take my mom’s advice and look inside.

When I first look, the whole bin seems filled with arts and crafts projects or toys I vaguely remember using. But when I lift them aside, to get at what’s underneath, I find that most of the bin is letters. Piles and piles of letters.

I pick one up, my nose twitching curiously. It doesn’t smell special, and aside from being a little wrinkled, it doesn’t look it either. But in my paws, it feels important. I flip it over and unsurprisingly, find my name messily scrawled on the side. Anxious to read it, I pull out the letter inside. Flipping the paper open, I’ve barely looked at the words when I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. The chicken scratch looks so familiar and as I read the letter, the sense I had done so before pulls(tugs?) at the back of my mind, a dull ache blooming there as my eyes rove across the page.

_ To Judy, _

_ Your play sounds awesome! I wish I could be there to see it, but there’s no harvest festival in Zootopia, which sucks. In fact, we don’t get any holidays till Christmas! How am I going to survive that long? But speaking of Christmas, guess what? My mom got me a junior ranger scout uniform! And just in time for the first troop meeting next week! I’m so excited, I’m going to make so many new friends! And then you and Mom can stop worrying about me fitting in here. _

_ I really wish you were here to join the troop with me. Pitching tents, lighting fires and tying knots, you’d love all that, what with your big head of yours. Not to mention all the rules in the guidebook for you to obsess over. And when we go on trips to the forest, we can have adventures again, just like back in Bunnyburrow! _

_ Actually, I take that back. I wish Dad had never gotten that promotion, so we could actually have our adventures in Bunnyburrow. The city’s great and all, but I miss stealing cookies and hiding in the fields. _

_ But most of all, I miss you, Judy. It’s so unfair you can’t come visit us. Why does your Dad have to be so mean all the time? I guess it would be alright if we could afford a ticket to come visit, but you live so far away! And Mom did just buy me that uniform. Maybe if I’m really good, we can come visit for Christmas! Here’s hoping! _

_ -Love, Nick. _

I feel a single tear track its way down my cheek. “Cheese and crackers. How did I forget you?” I whisper. I turn and look at the mountain of letters that Nick sent to me. “We were clearly important to each other…”

I feel a burning desire light within me.  _ I have to fix this, I must remember! _ I reach out to grab another letter, when the door slams open, causing me to jump in the air.

“Judy, you won’t believe this!” Mom shouts.

I turn around, indignation burning inside me. “Mom! You startled me!” I shout.

She looks at me apologetically. “I’m sorry dear, but I was finally given the mail. And Judy, you won’t believe this!”

I feel my nose twitch in confusion. “Believe what?”

She looks at me with the largest grin I’ve ever seen. “Nick Wilde is coming back to Bunnyburrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took so long, but I got sick and working on school projects was more pressing. However, it is almost twice as long as the original chapter one to make up for it! I've already started work on chapter three, which is from Nicks perspective. It's going to be pretty similar to this one, so hopefully, I won't have to spend too long on it.
> 
> Updated, Latest update, August 29, 2018. Thanks to jknight97 and Seaside Skies for their help.


	3. The Last Letter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick explores his now empty room, before leaving it for the last time and finds a secret he doesn't remember. While reeling from its revelation, his Mom delivers some startling news.

Sunday afternoon finds me in an empty bedroom, void of all the things that made it mine. The movers had just left, taking with them everything that made this house our home for the last 7 years. It’s strange to see my room without all the junk that had piled up. It looks so much larger but feels much less loved. The only thing that shows someone 

may have lived here is the rug that sat underneath my bed, an ancient dusty decoration that before today, I had never seen all at once. I feel dazed, being in this room that is both mine and not. I wander about, admiring the carpet from every angle, hoping to get some sense of familiarity back in my life.

But I get nothing. Spurred by some curiosity, I walk atop the rug, letting its threads brush against my toes. The edges are rough and worn, with the middle almost plush in comparison. As I near one of the far corners, a board suddenly creaks underfoot.

Something springs up from within me, a long-lost memory. Laughter plays in my ears as I hear my younger self look about the room.  A creak of a board, a small giggle, then my little voice rings out,  _ “You’ll be safe here!” _

Almost automatically, I reach down and flip over the nearest corner of the rug. I’m almost surprised when I find the loose floorboard. I pull it up and find a small space, with two containers jammed tightly inside.

“Think I would remember having a hidden stash,” I say,

I grab one of them and find it to be a circular cookie tin.

“Better not be sewing supplies in here,” I chuckle.

I seat myself against the wall and pull on the lid. It’s stiff from age and rust, but once I dig my claws into the lip, it pops open. Inside, I find a pile of letters crammed tightly inside. I pick up one and see my name clearly written in a fancy scrawl on the side.

Flicking open the envelope, I pull out the folded letter inside. My heart skips a beat when I stare at the loopy script, a painful pang of familiarity tugging on my chest. My breathing quickens in apprehension as I read the long-forgotten letter.

_ Dear Nick, _

_ I’m so happy to hear your mom was able to save up for that scout’s uniform! I’d wish you good luck for your first meeting, but I don’t think I’m very lucky today. _

_ It all started so well! The harvest festival was on and everyone was happy. We put on our play and actually got applause! Damian, Shauna and Adam did so well! Everything was perfect! And then the play was over. My parents didn’t take my dream so well, tried to convince me to be a carrot farmer. Eugh! I don’t wanna do that, I wanna be a police officer with you by my side, making the world a better place! _

_ In fact, I got a chance to do that. I saw your cousin Gideon steal some tickets from my friends and I managed to get them back from him. However, he clawed my face. It still stings! Mom was so mad, marched right over to the Grey’s house to give him a talking too! Dad was even madder. Said it was proof that predators couldn’t be trusted, especially foxes. He forbade me from writing to you anymore! That’s so unfair, you didn’t do anything, it’s all your jerk cousin’s fault! I tried to tell him that, but he didn’t listen. He went so far as to tell the post office to stop any mail we send each other. Said it was a good thing, to end things now before you betrayed me. _

_ But, you’d never do that, right Nick? You’re my best friend! It might be a little harder now that we can’t write, but we’ll stay that way forever, I just know it! Besides, we’ll see each other when we become cops together! And then my parents won't be able to stop us from doing anything. _

_ -Your best friend, Judy Hopps. _

I feel a tear tread its way down my cheek. I pick it up with a finger and admire it. It’s been so long since I last cried, I almost forgot that I could. I feel a sad smile overtake my muzzle.  _ Guess it’s good to be reminded…  _ With a swish of my wrist, I flick the tear away and turn my attention back to the letter. “Now, how on earth could I forget someone like you?” I whisper. The question sits heavy in my heart, a seed of disappointment that I know will fester until it’s resolved.

A sudden knock interrupts my depressed musing. “Nick, are you in here?”

I swivel towards the door. “Yeah, Mom.”

The door creaks open and Mom softly steps in, looking apologetic. “I just got some news from-” Her face morphs with surprise as she takes in the scene. “Are those what I think they are?”

I nod. “Judy’s letters? Yeah, I just found them.”

A small grin grows on her face. “Well, that’s good, I thought we had lost them. They help you remember anything?”

“Not yet, but I only read the one.” I sigh. “Mom, did Gideon really attack Judy?”

Her smiles falls. “Oh boy, I wasn’t looking forward to this.” She sighs, walking over to sit down beside me. Once settled, she turns to me, the smallest of grins on her face. “Why do you have to be so difficult, forgetting all this? It was hard enough to talk about this the first time.”

I try to muster up a grin in response, but all that comes out is an embarrassed chuckle. “How did I forget all this? Trying to figure that out myself, actually.”

She smiles sadly at me. “Well, you just keep trying okay?”

“Okay.”

She pauses, collecting herself, putting on what I’ve named “The Mom face.” She takes a deep breath and begins.  “I won’t lie to you, Nick. Gideon attacked Judy. I saw the slash marks myself.”

I interrupt, confused. “Wait. You  _ saw  _ them? How?”

She looks at me sardonically. “I’m getting to that part, Nick, don’t rush me.”

I grin sheepishly at her. “Sorry.”

She rolls her eyes at me, then continues, “Anyway, the moment you got that letter, you came to me bawling your eyes out. I’d never seen you so upset and that includes the… incident with the troop.” Her voice trails off and she looks at me, concern in her eyes.

My heart clenches at the mention of the troop. I’m mad she brought it up, I wanted to forget it happened. But I play it cool and don’t react, hoping she’ll move on. She stares for a brief moment more, than, apparently satisfied I’m alright, goes back to recollecting. Internally, I sigh with relief.

“Well, when I finally calmed you down enough that you let me look at the letter, I was appalled. I thought my sister knew better than to raise her kit like that. And how Stu reacted to it-” She clicks her tongue. “Well, I wasn’t really surprised, just disappointed. Especially in Bonnie, I thought she was the more level-headed of the two. That she’d keep him in check.”

She shakes her head. “Well, I couldn’t exactly do nothing, you were  _ so  _ worried, and I couldn’t do anything here. So, I took the next day off and grabbed the first train I could to Bunnyburrow.” She sighs. “It was expensive but worth it.” Her mouth twists into a grin. “You should have seen the look on your Aunt Artemis’s face when I showed up at her door with that letter. She was not expecting that, I can tell you. Nor the grand shouting at I gave her and that lazy husband of hers.” She scoffs. “I still can’t believe they let Gideon get so bad. Our parents raised us better than that. Although considering what I remember from their last visit, I don’t know if I can say he’s improved.”

She turns to me, face serious. “That reminds me… If I even hear a whisper about you getting into fights at your new school, you’re grounded for a month, got it!”

The sudden topic change catches me by surprise, so all I can do is nod silently.

She grins. “Good, I’m glad you understand. Now, where was I…?”

“Shouting at Aunt Artemis?”

“Right, thank you.” She taps her chin, lost in thought and I slowly watch the joy in her eyes fade away as she recalls whatever happened. When she opens her mouth, her voice is heavy with a strange sadness. “You know, Nicky, it was so easy to change my sister’s mind about what happened being wrong, I expected it to be just as simple to change the Hopps’ minds about letting you write to Judy. In a way, I was right.” She stops, her muzzle ticking up into the slightest of smiles. “Bonnie was always more progressive than her husband but was held back by her upbringing and her environment. Changing her mind was easy. But Stu?” She growls. “Stu’s so stuck in his ways, I’m surprised he let you and Judy be friends in the first place. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t budge, said I was just trying to trick him. He refused to let me see Judy, to see how hurt she was. Bonnie had to sneak me in while he was working.” Mom turns to me, expression reassuring. “She was fine by the way, was barely scratched. It wouldn’t surprise me if the scars had faded by now.”

Despite Mom’s assurance, anger and resentment towards my cousin grows within me. I’ve hated bullies, ever since the troop. Gideon never came off as the nicest mammal when his family came to visit, and this certainly puts a new perspective on my view of him. However, it’s been four years since he last came to visit, so I can only hope he’s grown up since then, otherwise, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hang around him at all. A sharp pain comes from my paw pads and I look down, relaxing the fingers I hadn’t realized I’d clenched. I take a breath to calm myself, then look back at Mom.

She looks away again and makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, her face twisted with frustration and disappointment. “Bonnie and I tried to think of any way we could circumvent Stu’s ban on your letters. But he’s friends with the postal workers, so any attempts to use a third party would be found out pretty quick. And phones were definitely out of the question. No way either of us could afford the amount of long distance calls you would make to each other. So, we accepted defeat.” Her mouth twitches upwards into a small smile. “Judy took it rather well when she was told you really couldn’t write each other anymore. Said it didn’t matter, as you’d see each other when you joined the force together.” She laughs. “Wish I could be that optimistic.”

I’m suddenly struck by a thought, one that makes me feel queasy and hopeful at the same time. Shaking her arm, I ask, “Mom, do you think Judy remembers me? I mean, she was so important to me, and I still forgot.”

Her expression morphs with contemplation and she still, lost in thought. “I… I don’t know, Nick. Judy was always so forceful about what it is she wants out of life, I doubt she would forget you on purpose. But you were just like her when you were younger, and well… Losing your line of communication with her hurt you, Nick, broke you in ways I still don’t understand.” A sudden look of realization crosses her face. “There’s no way you would forget her under normal circumstances. Perhaps, your brain blocked out all memories of her, so you wouldn’t remember how hurt being unable to contact her makes you.” She looks at me, gauging my reaction.

The idea has elements of truth and is certainly plausible. I shrug. “It’s about as good as any idea I’ve heard so far.”

Mom looks at me, expression deadpan, as if to say, “Really?” She keeps it up for a few more moments, then sighs, giving in as I remain impassive.

“Anyway, I have no idea if she remembers or not. You forgot, so she could have too. At this point, you may as well just hope for the outcome you want most and see what happens.”

_ The outcome I want most… What is that? _ My brain swirls as the pros and cons of each side bounce in my head. A larger chance of having a guaranteed friend, or the possibility of us discovering the past together. Having her dissatisfied with how I’ve changed since she last saw me, or not wanting anything to do with a Fox she doesn’t even remember? Thoughts twist in my mind as the endless possibilities pile up and a headache begins to form as my head quickly shifts into overdrive, losing myself to the ideas my brain conjures.

And then suddenly, I’m pulled out as Mom calls out, “Nick.”

I pull myself out of my head and back into the room, where I see mom looking at me with worry, apprehension and… apology?

Concerned, I ask, “Mom, what’s wrong?”

She sucks in a pained breath. “I just remembered why I came looking for you in the first place. You’re probably not going to like this.”

“Mom?”

She heaves a huge sigh, her chest rising and falling in a large wave. “Nick, I got a call from our landlord in Bunnyburrow. He was taking a look around our home to be, checking that everything was alright, when he found a termite nest. We won’t be able to move in for a while. They need to get rid of the bugs, and then assess and repair any damage. They said it would be a minimum of a month before we can stay there.”

My heart drops in my chest and my paws clench. “Well, where are we going to stay?” I exclaim.

Mom gives me one of the most apologetic looks I’ve ever seen. “Nick, this is the part you really might not like. I called up my sister, and she agreed to house us in the meantime.”

My brow furrows in confusion. I don’t get it, I like Aunt Artemis, it’s-

“I’m going to live with Gideon?!”

Mom forces a smile. “Hey, it might not be that bad, he could have grown up since we last saw him.”

I force a smile back at her, outwardly agreeing with her, but deep inside me, I get a sinking sensation that this will not turn out in my favour at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this got away from me. I initially planned this to be part of chapter two, since they were so similar, but it got to a point where I finished Judy's section and I hadn't completed this part. It was long enough, so I posted it as it's own chapter. I went back to this, figuring I could finish it up quickly enough and just post it the next day. Clearly, it didn't turn out that way. At 2400 words, this is almost half of what I've written for the whole story so far. If this trend continues, I might actually make my chapters chapter lengthed!
> 
> Latest update, august 29, 2018. Thanks to jknight97 and Seaside Skies for their help.


	4. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up from last time, Judy begins to deal with the aftermath of starting to learn about her past. Because, while family matters, family matters are not a good thing to have.

I heard her, I know it. I saw her mouth move and felt her words in my ears. But they mean nothing, empty shells that ring hollow in my mind. As I look at her smiling face looking at me expectantly, all I can say is, “Run that by me again, please?”

Mouth shifting into a frown, Mom rolls her eyes and grumbles, “Got those huge ears and still can’t listen…” Lifting her lips back into a smile, she repeats, “Dear, Nick is coming back to Bunnyburrow.”

It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with my ears, but when it does, I feel the world stop. “Wait…. wh-AT?!” I shout. Shocked, my ears standing tall and my tail and nose twitching in agitation, I open my mouth and words start falling out as I pace back and forth. 

“I just learned he exists and now he’s coming back! How on earth is that fair?” I shout. I briefly shudder in anger, then continue, “This is just like him. I bet this is one of his tricks, he was always smart like that.” I quickly twirl and point an accusing finger at Mom, who looks at me in surprise. “Are you in cahoots with him? Is this cookie incident #3 all over again?” I shout, my voice loud in the cramped room.

Mom looks at me with confusion, nose twitching as she says, “Judy, what are you talking about?”

I lift my finger, ready to continue my tirade, but suddenly my mind is empty. I try and bring up the memories that inspired my speech, but all I pull up is a headache and confusion. Pulling on my ears in frustration, I whisper, “What on earth did I just say?” As what I said fully sinks in, I yell, throwing my hands in the air, “What’s cookie incident #3?!”

A sudden force grips my elbows and pins them to my sides. I blink and Mom is right in my face, almost touching noses as she looks at me forcefully. Slowly and firmly, she says, “Judy, calm down. I don’t think Zootopia needs to hear you shouting. So, take a deep breath and try again.”

In that moment, I truly feel how on edge I am. My body burns with a passion and I feel my heartbeat in my ears and fingers, thrumming wildly. I nod and she lets go, staring at me with a calm expression. I inhale slowly, filling my lungs all the way before exhaling again. As the breath flows out of my mouth, I feel my heartbeat slow down, returning to my chest where it belongs.

Mom tilts her head and looks at me questioningly, “Better?”

I nod. “Better.”

She smiles. “Good, now again, but this time without all the shouting.”

I take another breath, calming myself some more. However, my words still spew out in a spastic flow when I open my mouth, “Nick is coming back? When? Why?”

She shrugs, “I have no idea why he’s coming back. You can ask him when he gets here in a week.”

“A week?” I exclaim, my ears rocketing upwards in surprise. Looking over at the bin of letters, I mutter despondently, “That doesn’t give me a lot of time.”

She follows my gaze and frowns when she sees what I’m looking at. “No, it doesn’t. I guess you’ll just have to hope that he’s as forgetful as you are. He always did like copying you...” She says, mouth shifting to a smile. Then, her brow furrowing, it changes back into a frown as she looks at me again. “Speaking of forgetting, I almost thought you had remembered something, the way you were going off.”

I look down in embarrassment, my ears instinctively lowering as I feel them heat up. I rub them nervously as I mutter,“I don’t know where that came from, it just sort of came out.”

“Well, clearly it came from your head-” She says, walking over and picking up the bin, the photo and the letter I dropped in my shock, putting them back inside “-Seems like your memories are still in there, just locked away.” She walks to me and hands the once again full bin over. I grunt as its weight is transferred to my paws, almost pulling me to the ground. As I struggle to pull myself back up straight, Mom looks at me, almost pleased and says, “How about you go to your room and look through this some more?” She winks. “Who knows, perhaps this time, some memories might stick around.”

I chuckle, embarrassed. “Thanks, Mom.”

Her face shifts to a more serious expression. “Now, I’m not going to have you shirking your schoolwork to reminisce all week.” She says, wagging her finger. “If I hear you missed an assignment, or that your grades dipped, I’ll have to rethink allowing your internship with Sheriff Stanford next summer.”

My mouth gapes in shock and I have to hastily regrab the bin to prevent it slipping from my grasp. “But Mom! It’s just a week!” I exclaim, shifting the bin back into place.

“But nothing!” She shouts. “What did I say when I agreed to allow you to do this?” She says sternly, hands on her hips.

I sigh, my ears drooping. “That to prove my dedication, I’ll have to get all A’s or higher on all my schoolwork.” I drone, defeat slipping into my voice.

She pats my cheek. “Good girl, at least you remember that.” Pushing me out the door by my backpack, she continues, “Now get out of here, you have lots to do, I don’t want to see your face again till dinner.”

* * *

 

Wandering through the maze of unfamiliar hallways and staircases back to my room, I find myself lost and confused, wandering arms of the house I didn’t even know existed. But after several wrong turns and having to ask my siblings for directions, I made it. 

Huffing and puffing outside my police tape covered door, I place the bin down and lean against the wall for support. As sweat trickles down my back, I ask myself, “When did this house get so big? That trip was exhausting.”

I lean on the wall for a little longer, gathering my strength before lifting the bin again and opening the door with my shoulder. Closing it again with my foot, I walk forward and drop the bin down beside my desk, currently covered in papers. Reminded that I haven’t had the time to drop off my things, I slip my backpack off my shoulders, groaning in relief as its weight is removed. “Feels so good to take that off,” I say almost giddily.

I let the almost heavenly feeling of not being burdened down wash over me and my aching muscles, until my eyes once again land on the bin. I glace between it and my desk, carefully thinking over what I’d rather be doing right now.  _ Schoolwork, or figuring out the past? _

However, my gaze falls on the ZPD poster that hangs on the wall behind my desk and my heart falls when I remember what’s at stake. Ears drooping a little, I say apologetically, “Sorry Nick, I’ll get to you later,” as I move to sit down. However, just as I’ve pulled out my schoolwork from my bag and placed it down in front of me, a knock interrupts my thoughts.

“Judy, you in there?” Says a voice I instantly recognize as my annoying sister, Jennifer. My twin in everything except her brown eyes and more devious mind. I suppress a growl and swivel in my chair 180 to face the door. “What is it, Jennifer? This better be important, I don’t have time to deal with your shenanigans.”

Her voice sounds through the door, mock hurt evident even through the thick wood. “What do you take me for Sis? I pulled my weekly prank on you yesterday, so of course it’s important.” She says, opening the door and walking in. I feet my foot tap in annoyance at the intrusion into my space. Uncaring, she waltzes right up to me, asking, “I was just wondering if you had the notes-” Her gaze shifts to the dusty bin beside my feet. Her nose twitching in confusion, she asks, “Judy, what’s that?”

My ears flatten against my head and my fists clench in annoyance. Taking a deep breath through my nose to abate my frustration, I say, “Nothing that concerns you, Jennifer.” I flick my ears back up and try to put on a calm expression and steer the conversation back on track. “Now, what was it you actually wanted?” I say, trying to keep my tone pleasant.

Her ears perk up and she gives me a reassuring smile. “Oh, yes! I was wondering if you had the notes from socials class today? My pen broke and no one had a spare.”

My face scrunches in confusion. “Why  _ my _ notes, don’t you have friends?” I ask suspiciously.

She scoffs, looking at me like the answer should be obvious. “My friends are slackers, I can’t count on them for anything school related. But you? You’re always so meticulous. You don’t have a reputation around school as being insanely detail oriented for no reason.”

I roll my eyes and say dismissively, “Jennifer, I’m known around school as the insane know-it-all rules lawyer with the impossible dream.”

She shrugs. “Like I said, detail oriented.”

“Whatever,” I say, grabbing my backpack and pulling out my binder. I flip it open to the right coloured tab, grab today’s notes and practically thrust them in her face. “Take them and get out, please,” I say, voice strained with annoyance and frustration. “I have enough on my plate without you here to annoy me.”  
She fumbles to grab the pages, then gives me a look of confusion and concern. “Woah, who pissed in your cornflakes?”

“You did, by interrupting me. You can fix it by getting out.” I say firmly, pointing to the door.

She holds up her paws in a placating gesture. “Hey, calm down, I’m just asking for notes. I got no nefarious plans for these.” 

“You’d find a way. You’re smart like that,” I say, narrowing my eyes, almost growling. 

She puts a hand over her heart, mock appreciation in her eyes. “You think I’m smart? Aw, thank you!”

I feel my frustration reach a tipping point. I point harshly, almost shouting, “Out!”

“Fine, fine.” She grumbles, waving a hand dismissively before walking towards the door. 

I sigh in relief, swivelling my chair to once again face my desk. I grab a pencil from my cup of then in the corner and have just pressed graphite to wood pulp when Jennifer’s voice once again rings in my ears.

“Oh, by the way, who’s Nick?” I hear a gasp and the sound of paws against cheeks, “Is he your secret boyfriend?”

I feel my fists clench in anger and shock, barely registering the snap of my pencil breaking in half. Slowly, I turn my chair to face her again. “Jennifer,” I say, voice strained, “Didn’t I say it was none of your business?”

She looks at me like I’m stupid. “If you’ve got a secret boyfriend, it’s totally my business, think of all the blackmail opportunities!” She exclaims, throwing her arms in the air, excitement growing on her face.

I rub the bridge of my nose, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Voice strained with the difficulty of keeping my anger in check, I say, “Jennifer, why would I have a secret boyfriend? I haven’t even had a regular one.”

She grins widely at me, a cartoonish glee infecting her voice. “My point exactly! I mean, You’re not average by any meaning of the word.” She gestures to the ZPD posters and decorations that litter my room. “It’s not too far a leap to think your taste in partners would be just as weird.”

I scoff. “Well, I hate to disappoint you Jennifer, but I don’t have a boyfriend, secret or otherwise. And-” I point forcefully at her. “-I can prove it.” Pushing myself out of my chair, I walk over to the dusty bin, pull off the lid and grab the same photo I was looking at earlier. Walking over, I shove the dusty frame into her hands, saying, “Now, I don’t know if you remember, but  _ this _ is Nick.”

She looks down at the photo in her hands, her brow furrowing and nose twitching curiously before her eyes suddenly light up and she says excitedly, “Oh yeah, I remember him! He was always following you around like a lovesick little puppy.” A nostalgic grin overtakes her face. “You were so mad when he moved away, I’m surprised you didn’t try and stow away on his train and go to Zootopia with him.” She looks up from the picture and gives me a quizzical look. “Why the sudden interest in reliving the past?”

I reach out and take back the photo. “Because Mom just found all this after years of Dad hiding it from her.” I give her a stern glare. “You know that means you can’t say a word about this. I don’t want Dad taking all this away after I just got it back.”

She mimes a zipper. “Don’t worry Sis, my lips are sealed, no words are getting out about this.” She says, smiling smugly.

Her tone and smile give me pause. I look at her critically and say, “Why do I get the feeling this is all going to be used against me?”

She walks up to me, lays a hand on my shoulder and says seriously,  “Because, after so many years, you finally figured out how I work.” With a smirk, she turns and heads for the door, waving the paper in her paw. “Thanks for the notes, by the way,” She says cheerfully and then with a click of the lock behind her, she’s gone.

Finally alone again, I feel a wave of tension roll its way out of my body. My shoulders relax and I feel my ears droop back to a more neutral position. I turn around to look at my desk and sigh happily, “Well, looks like I can finally get some work done, huh?”

I start heading for my desk but stop when I feel something brush against my leg. I look down and see that I still have the picture frame in my hands. “Oh yeah,” I say, lifting it to my face. “What am I going to do with you?”

I gaze around the room, looking for the best place to hang the photo. However, as I eye up my walls, I find every good spot already taken by posters of the ZPD or Gazelle, family photos and crafts projects from school. 

Tapping my foot, I grumble, “Running out of space…”

I hum in annoyance and turn my attention to other places in my room when I could put the photo and I come up with a very short list. The only good places are my currently cluttered desk and my bedside table, presently holding an alarm clock and a simple lamp. 

Grumbling with indecision, I walk over to the bin and toss the frame on top. “I’ll figure out where to put you later,” I say, sitting back in front of my desk. With a sigh, I toss the pencil I broke earlier and finally get to doing my schoolwork.

* * *

 

Several hours later, my homework long finished and forgotten,  I find my ears perking up and my stomach growling as a tolling bell echoes through the house. Dinner was ready. With a sad sigh, I put down the latest letter I was reading. “Sorry Nick, gotta eat,” I say, getting up from my comfortable position on my bed. I take a moment and stretch the stiffness from being still so long out of my muscles. Feeling appropriately limber, I swivel my ears to the door and listen for the pounding feet of my siblings. With nothing but silence, I confidently open the door, ready to head to dinner. 

I look up and down the hall, checking for the endless train of siblings that no doubt will appear. But right now, all I see is a smattering of my siblings lazily making their way towards the dining room. Assured that I won’t be crushed under the hungry bodies of my family, I join them in their quest for food.

A long and winding journey later, I find myself in the dining room in the centre of the house. The giant atrium filled with tables stretches out before me, looking as cavernous as my stomach feels. As my stomach lets out another growl, I join the crowd walking clockwise round the room till I reach the table I’ve sat at for years. Sitting down at a table marked with a “J”, I join my littermates in waiting for food. They all give me nods of greeting, except the one beside me, Jennifer, who lingers her eyes on me with a smile that almost seems genuine and yet leaves me pondering her intentions. She nods her head in a direction and against my better judgement, I turn my head to look. 

Not sure what to expect, I’m surprised when all I see is Dad entering the dining room, looking weary from working on the farm. I turn back to Jennifer, raising an eyebrow in question. She says nothing, merely miming a zipper and smiling. Taking it to mean she hasn’t said anything yet, I nod in response, the small relief loosening my anxiously tight chest.

However, I find myself turning back to stare at Dad. As I watch him, wandering between tables, happily checking in with all my siblings, suddenly and all at once, I’m struck by a thought that conflicts with the scene in front of me. My caring father, a rabbit normally so generous, had so ruled by his own selfish fear, put a wall between me and my best friend. My lost memories are his fault. 

As soon as I’ve thought it, I know I didn’t want to make this realization. It sits darkly in my gut, a heavy queasiness not unlike having too much fast food. I’ve never thought I could ever truly consider my father being against my own happiness, yet here I am, uncertain if he ever had my best intentions in mind. A maelstrom of conflicting emotions settles onto me as I turn to stare blankly at the placemat and utensils in front of me.

“You feeling alright there, Jude?”

Shocked, blinking quickly and nose twitching furiously, I look up to see Dad looking down at me. I feel my brain jump into hyperdrive and it takes all my effort to not suddenly blurt out everything on my mind. Quickly pushing down all the thoughts and emotions in my head, I say as truthfully as possible,  “I’m fine Dad, just had a long day.”

Pulling on the straps of his overalls and giving me a smile, he responds, “Well, that’s alright, so long as something interesting happened.”

I feel my heart stutter when I realize I’m going to have to lie. Forcing my ears to stay upright and my face calm, I say, “Not really. At least nothing you’d want to hear about.” A twinge of guilt stabs at my heart when I realize what I said is partly true. He wouldn’t want to hear about Nick.

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “You sure about that Jude? I mean, I was out working on the farm all day, I think even hearing about your school work would be interesting right now.”

Grateful for the topic change I snap up the opportunity to switch to a less deceptive dialogue. 

“I don’t know Dad, my schoolwork is pretty boring. Didn’t even have to do an essay for English, just had math and questions about the depression for socials.” I say, shrugging carelessly.

Dad looks at me with concern growing in his eyes, leaning closer as he says, “Woah Jude, you feeling alright? Where’s your trademark enthusiasm?”

Any other time I’d feel grateful that Dad cares so much, and while I still do, right now I have to hold back the spike of panic that threatens to send my heart thudding out of my chest. Thinking quickly, I try and come up with a way to end this conversation. Waving a hand dismissively, I say, “Don’t worry Dad, nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I just had a long day. I’ll be better after I’ve had some food. Besides, don’t you have to check in with everyone else?”

He looks at me, mulling it over and I let out an internal sigh of relief when I watch him step back.. He sighs. “Guess you got a point there, Jude. But be sure to come to me or your Mother if that funk lingers. Can’t have it sticking around and affecting you, eh?” He says, lightly placing a paw on my shoulder. 

“Alright, Dad, I’ll do that,” I say, trying to muster a convincing smile. 

He pats my shoulder. “Well, better check in with the rest of your siblings. Enjoy dinner, the K’s and L’s worked hard on it.” With that, he strolls off towards another table, talking to my siblings in an order not even my oldest siblings have managed to understand. 

As I watch him wander, I realize the knot of tension from our conversation hasn’t left me yet. In fact, as he walks about, I feel it pull even tighter. I don’t like this, of looking at Dad and feeling so much uncertainty in my heart. While he had never been supportive of all my plans and ideas, he’d never actually prevented me from doing something… Or so I thought. And I can’t make it fit, my now two ideas of my father. The caring, generous man before me and the selfish fearful man I know him to be. I try to reconcile it in my head, but it doesn’t work, and that knot of tension only grows tighter. 

I watch Dad step up to another sibling, ask them about their day and then look up at me and smile, apparently noticing me watching him. I feel my heart clench, that knot of tension pulled so tightly, I feel like I’m going to break in half. Weakly, I wave back at him and quickly turn back to face the table and distance myself from this mess. But it doesn’t work. With nothing in front of me to focus on, I finally feel how out of sorts I am. My whole body is tightly clenched, wreaked with shakes. I pick up a spoon and find I can’t hold it steady in my hand. 

Quickly putting it back down, I look around the table at my other siblings, but only Jennifer seems to be paying me any attention, the others completely unaware of the state I’m in. Sneakily, Jennifer looks over her shoulder before leaning over and whispering quietly and enthusiastically at me, “Wow Judy, that was some good lying there. If I hadn’t known better, I don’t think I would have been able to tell you were doing it at all!”

“Oh, lay off it, Jennifer!” I exclaim, pushing her away. “This is not what I need right now. You know I hate lying.”

“Excuse me, what’s this I hear about lying?”

My ears draped down my back and my heart beating wildly in my chest, I turn in my chair to see Dad glaring disapprovingly at me. I spare a glance back over at Jennifer, who looks at me with the biggest grin, before mouthing, “For your own good.” I feel a brief simmer of anger about being tricked before looking back at Dad and feeling myself drown in dread.

“Judy,” He says, tapping his foot. “You know how I feel about my children hiding things from me.”

Hearing his words, something shifts in me. All the emotions I’ve been holding back suddenly surge to the front of my mind.

“Well, if you don’t like it so much, maybe you shouldn’t have hidden something from me then!” I yell.

He stills, his whole body immobile, save his curiously twitching nose. “What do you mean, Judy?”

I feel my heart skip a beat at the thought he doesn’t even know what he did. Burning with rage, I feel my bubble of emotions burst.

“Nick Wilde!” I shout, my voice erupting out of me like a wave. “My best friend in the whole world, till you-” I poke him harshly in the chest, pushing him backwards with the force. “-put a stop to it.”

Stepping back even further, he holds up a paw and mutters weakly, “Judy, I- ”

Getting up, I interrupt, “No You don’t get to talk, you’ve done enough. You stole my friend from me, took away and hid everything that could remind me of his existence and forbade me from ever contacting him again.” 

I pause to take a breath, then walk towards him, looking him dead in the eyes as I say, “But you know what, that’s not even the worst part.” As I move closer, the less he looks like my dad and the more he looks like some fearful imposter, until I’m right in from of him and I don’t even see my father anymore.

“The worst part is, some or all of that could be forgivable. If it weren’t for one simple thing. Because of everything else you did, until this afternoon, I didn’t even remember he existed,” I say, putting as much seriousness in my tone as can.

I let my words hang in the air a moment, allowing the full repercussions of his actions to stew in his mind. But as he ponders, I find silence reaching my ears. Glancing around, I see all my siblings staring, many of them shocked and angry, not all of them at Dad. The implications sting. But so does the thought, that perhaps, I should have done this differently. Regret filling and tightening my chest, I take a deep breath and turn around.

“You know what, I’m done here, I don’t need dinner,” I say moving to leave.

“Oh no you don’t,” Dad says, grabbing my arms and turning me around, holding both my wrists tightly in his grasp. “You can’t just talk to me like that and leave, not expecting any consequences.”

I try and tug my hands free, but his grip is ironclad. “I’ll take them, just let me go!” I exclaim.

“Not till I’m done talking,” He shouts. “You don’t get to criticize how I decide to protect you from harm. You may think being friends with a fox is a good thing, but I know better. They are nothing but dangerous, and even if you were ‘friends’ when you were younger, you certainly wouldn’t be by now if I hadn’t intervened. I saved you a lot of pain.”

Putting my foot against his stomach, I give one large pull and yank my wrists free of his grasp, shouting back, “You can’t know that. I have plenty of predator friends and they’ve never hurt me, not even by accident. What makes foxes so different?”

He looks at me with exasperation and snorts. “They’re sneaky and conniving, never searching for anything outside their own self-interest. Considering what you go through with Gideon, I thought you would know this!”

“Gideon may have become a bully, but that is not because he’s a fox. If anything, it’s due to his parents.”

“Who are  _ foxes! _ ” He shouts.

With those words, my thoughts hit a brick wall and my brain comes to a raging halt. I’m struck by the realization that I can’t get through to my dad like this.  He’s too involved; too set in his ways. Words won’t be enough. I start searching for my mother in the crowd, hoping she could come and calm Dad down. But I know she won’t be here, she’s in the kitchen, preparing dessert like usual. I can only hope one of my more responsible siblings in on their way to get her. But I still have to deal with Dad in the meantime.

I take a deep breath, giving myself a moment to collect my thoughts, then say, “You know what Dad. We can argue all day about whether or not Nick would have betrayed me. But I think we should let the evidence should speak for itself. We’ll just find out when he comes back.”

Dad stills, his whole body frozen as he tries to rationalize what he just heard. “What did you say?” He slowly growls out.

I grin smugly at him, saying coyly, “The Wildes are coming back to Bunnyburrow.”

He looks at me with wide-eyed confusion. “The Wildes are… coming back?” He mutters, voice and eyes distant as if he can’t comprehend the idea.

My grin gets wider, and I hear my voice get even smugger as I say, “Yes, and when they arrive, Nick will surely want to reconnect as much as I do. So, we’re going to be friends whether you like it or not!”

Dad twitches as he stands in place unfazed, almost like he didn’t even hear me. He looks so glass eyed, I almost expect to hear dial-up noises come out of his mouth.

After a moment, he starts moving again and looks at me so calmly, I feel my heart start to beat faster at how scared it’s making me. 

“Alright, Judy.” He says, smiling widely. “You want to hang out with Nick? You go right ahead.  But, I’m not having a daughter of mine hang out with a fox without protection,” He says, pulling a pink bag labelled “Fox-away” from behind him. 

“What the? ...Do you always have that on you?” I ask, incredulous. 

“Can never be too careful, Judy.” He says with grim determination.

_ Can never be too insane, _ I think, too scared of repercussions to voice it. From the bag, he pulls out a bright pink taser. He pushes a button on the side and a bright arc of electricity comes out of the top. “If your fox friend gets any ideas, one good jolt with this, and you can get out of there in a jiffy.” He says, the arc illuminating his face with how strong it is.

“Dad, how’d you even get those, they’re illegal!” I shout, shocked.

He grumbles, putting the taser back in the bag, “Fine, then at least take this.”

From his bag, he pulls out a small pink canister, clearly labelled “Fox repellent”.

I don’t even look at him, I just start shaking my head, “No. I’m not taking that. I refuse.”

“Judy, either you go to school with this-” He says, wagging the canister back and forth, “-or you don’t go to school at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming. I've been working on this since before I posted the last chapter. That's almost 6 months! So needless to say, this chapter was really tough to work on. In terms of word count, it's literally half the story up to this point. It got so hard for me, I got some extra help in the form of two beta readers, Jknight97 and Seaside skies. They have been invaluable in getting this together. They also helped out a bit on the previous chapters, so you can thank them for the updated grammar and consistency you can see there now. But aside from that, there is something else I have to say. I must apologize for not getting this to you sooner. I know I could have. This was far too long a wait and I can only hope the next update will not take this long as well. However, school is starting soon, so I'm not going to make any promises on when you can expect it, only that it will be coming. I don't like to leave things unfinished and this is no exception.  
> Thank you for your patience and see you next time.


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